


harsh on the exhale

by freckliefeeling



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Young adult moments of confusion, the terrifying ordeal of getting older
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckliefeeling/pseuds/freckliefeeling
Summary: "Annabeth realizes with another beat and another moment of comfortable silence, that these movements of reaching out for one another are quickly becoming familiar, too. Like breathing. Inhale, pull smoke, reach out. Exhale, a little harsh, tighten grip."a select few moments of breathing.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 119





	harsh on the exhale

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i'm amber i'm new here, but if you follow me on [tumblr](https://himbopercy.tumblr.com/), you'll know that i'm obsessed with my stoner percabeth headcanons. so, because yesterday was 420 and i'm literally always late, here's this! stoner pjo fans can have little a emotional rambling, as a treat. :)

The first time, she coughs. 

Percy rubs her back as she hacks up a lung, the stinging making her eyes water and her head pound just a little bit. She tries to hold it back, to cut the wheezing off so she she can stop making a fool of herself, but it only makes it worse. The second wave is rough.

"You're gonna be pretty high after that," Percy says. His tone is soft, not at all teasing. She loves him for it.

They've somehow scored a few hours alone at Percy's apartment while his parents are out running errands, and it had been Annabeth's suggestion that they use it to try something she's been curious about. Percy had been overjoyed to share. He'd held the pipe gently to her lips and showed her how to light it, muttering the quietest, "there you go" when she'd brought the burning smoke into her lungs.

"I only took one hit?" It comes out like a question, and she watches with fascination as the corner of his mouth twitches. 

"Coughing makes it worse." He shrugs sympathetically before he presses his own lips to the tiny green pipe. He brings the lighter to the bowl, flicking it and effortlessly pulling the smoke into his lungs. He pauses, catches her eye, and then looks away as he exhales. He looks kinda like a dragon, and Annabeth holds back a giggle.

The motions are all practiced, familiar to him as though he does them everyday. Then, Annabeth remembers, he does. The intimacy of sharing this with him, one of these little rituals that make up her boyfriend's everyday life, isn't lost on her. She wants to bask in it.

Maybe she's just feeling the hit. Or the cough. Whatever it is, she wants his arms around her. She inches closer, grabs the pipe from his hands and sets it on the ground beneath his bed. She eyes the space above Percy's collarbone a moment before resting her head there. Percy wraps his arms around her immediately.

"What do we do now?" Annabeth asks, the words feeling silly once they fall from her lips.

Percy shrugs and tightens his grip the slightest bit, like he can't help but pull her as close as he can get away with, and Annabeth realizes with another beat and another moment of comfortable silence, that these movements of reaching out for one another are quickly becoming familiar, too. like breathing. 

Inhale, pull smoke, reach out. Exhale, a little harsh, tighten grip. 

Annabeth isn't sure when it started feeling weird to be in the same room as him without touching him in some way. She's not sure when their bodies seemed to start gravitating towards each other like this. The feeling definitely isn't new, but the freedom to act on it and the intensity of the feeling definitely are, and Annabeth almost feels like her lungs are stinging with it. Just like the smoke, it makes her dizzy.

Annabeth gently pushes Percy back on the bed, settling next to him and keeping her head on his chest. 

"I'm having emotions about you, you know," she says. 

Percy smiles up at her. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Annabeth chews on a snarky response, but ends up just blurting out, "I like you." 

She almost expects him to make fun of her or laugh again, but all she hears is his breath catch. It's a small sound, and Annabeth catalogues that, mentally tucking it away in one of the many corners of her brain that hold all her favorite little Percy-isms that make her heart ache when they're apart. When his lips press against her temple, she can feel him smiling.

"I like you too, Wise Girl."

Annabeth is giddy with the way she feels his words rumble through his chest. The nickname makes her smile against her will, but she hides it away by burying her face in his shirt.

It reminds her that once upon a time they were twelve year olds, unaware of the ways they would someday need each other in so many ways. Pushing buttons and tugging pigtails. Annabeth remembers a boy that infuriated her, the kid who was confused and clueless and not afraid of owning it. Being around him had terrified her, her own carefully presented facade of know how crumbling so easily in his presence. And then they were friends, teetering on the edge of something that they simply didn't have the time or energy to figure out, and Annabeth couldn't keep it together. There had just been so much.

She likes where they're at. She likes that getting here took a lot of work, that they've grown into each other and gotten under each other's skin. She likes these moments where existing next to him feels as easy as breathing.

Percy breaks the silence, his words slow and syrupy. "Penny for your thoughts?" 

Annabeth holds out her hand. "Give me the penny."

Percy sighs, "...I don't actually have one."

It's her turn to snort. She lets her hand fall back to rest on his chest, and then uses it as leverage to push herself up the slightest bit to look him in the eyes. 

"I might be willing to take other forms of payment." 

A grin breaks across his face, and having the sheer force of his affection pointed directly at her makes her feel like she's floating.

"Is that so?," he asks, bringing one hand to tangle in the curls at the nape of her neck. Annabeth shivers. 

"My thoughts are as follows." She leans down to kiss the tip of his nose. "One, I like you." 

Percy hums in agreement. "We've established that we like each other." 

Annabeth rolls her eyes at him, but continues. She drops a kiss on his eyebrow. "Two, I like this. Smoking, I mean." She kisses his other eyebrow. "With you." She rests her forehead against his. "Three, I really want you to kiss me now." 

He nods, and brings their lips together with all the passion of two stoned teenagers learning how to be in love for the first time, plus the tenderness of two best friends who know where to tread lightly with each other. 

Percy kisses her like she's much needed oxygen at the tail end of a coughing fit. Annabeth rests her hand on his cheek, remembers all the ways they've grown into this moment, and then pushes it all aside to focus on the feeling of familiarity in his touch. 

☆☆☆

"Tell me you didn't drag me into the woods just to cop a feel, Jackson."

Annabeth's tone is stern as she tucks her knife away safely and puts a hand on her hip. Percy turns around to face her, continuing their descent into the woods facing backwards. He almost smacks his head into a tree, but he ducks just in time.

"I did not drag you into the woods to...sorry, what was that?" He's grinning now, as he holds up one hand to air quote, "'cop a feel'?" 

He stops next to a familiar boulder, and she smacks him on the arm. He catches it, using it to pull her against him. 

"A likely story," she mutters, melting into the touch nonetheless, because she's predictable. At least when it comes to Percy Jackson, she is.

She's about to forgive him and kiss the stupid grin off his face, when the bushes next to them ruffle and shift to let them know they're no longer alone. Annabeth is preparing either to reach for her weapon, or quickly put some space between the two of them, when the familiar face of her favorite satyr pops out from the foliage, a grin stretching across his face.

"Grover!" she exclaims.

"Annabeth! Percy!" Grover responds, running over to wrap them both in a hug. 

"Told you so," Percy says smugly when they part. 

Annabeth sticks her tongue out at him. "You told me nothing."

"Aw, you guys," Grover interrupts, "this is just like old times."

They spend a few moments catching each other up on things that almost feel superficial. If it were anyone else, they would be. There's a brief moment where Annabeth's breath catches on the fact that none of them have any life threatening adventures to fill each other in on for once, and she lets that settle her. She breathes it in with the fresh air and the smell of her favorite place with two of her favorite people. 

Then Grover pulls out a joint Annabeth hadn't noticed had been tucked behind his ear. Percy grins, holds out a fist for Grover to bump, and Annabeth rolls her eyes fondly at them. 

Grover hands it to Percy to light, and Annabeth watches him. She takes it when it gets to her, and she prides herself on knowing the right amount that won't make her cough. She doesn't miss the way Percy's eyes are locked on her. She hands it off to him with a wink she hopes is subtle. 

Percy blows a smoke ring and Grover tries to one up him, and Annabeth steps back when they start looking like they might start one of their various kicking and shoving games they sometimes like to play when they smoke together. Grover pulls out a hacky sack and that lasts about as long as it takes for Percy to trip himself and glare at Annabeth and Grover when they laugh at him. Eventually they settle with their backs against a tree trunk.

"I love you guys," Grover says, staring up at the leaves on the tree. Annabeth hears the sleepy smile in his voice. "Can I officiate your wedding?"

Percy laughs loudly, sounding half shocked and half amused. Annabeth feels the same. she meets Percy's eyes, grabs his hand. She tries to send a telepathic message with her eyes: imagine that.

She doesn't know if it translates, but she knows what his answer would be. she hears back in his voice, already do. 

Maybe the weed is making her crazy, thinking that she can telepathically communicate with her boyfriend, but then again, stranger things are true about them. Maybe it's making her sappy and lovesick.

"Maybe some day, man." Percy responds. He's still holding her with his gaze. Annabeth lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Maybe it's the weed. Maybe she's just happy to have a moment to breathe.

☆☆☆

Rachel is already on another level when they find her, face down on the living room of her apartment, which has become basically home base number three to Percy and Annabeth as of late. (Camp Half Blood and the cozy apartment of one Sally Jackson maintaining the titles of home base numbers one and two). She's wearing a hoodie inside out and has only one sock on. There's a half eaten butterfinger next to her acting as a bookmark in her psychology 101 textbook. 

"Get off the floor, drama queen," Percy says, kicking his shoes off and making his way over to her. He picks up the butterfinger and takes a bite, offering it to Annabeth, who does the same. 

Rachel lifts her head just enough to give them a miserable look. "This shit sucks." 

Annabeth plops down next to her friend and picks up the textbook. 

"Where's your weed, Rach?" Percy shouts from the kitchen, already rustling through her cupboards.

Rachel's "by the window!" is yelled mostly into the carpet. She rolls over onto her back and catches Annabeth's eye. She flashes a giant smile despite her obvious moodiness. "Hey babe."

Annabeth grins back at her. "Hey, you." She hands Rachel the book. "Read to me?"

Percy comes back in with the tiniest mason jar of bud Annabeth has ever seen and Rachel's water pipe. He sits on the armchair behind Annabeth, and she leans back on his legs. Rachel sits up to flip to the right page of her textbook.

Percy finishes packing a bowl as Rachel starts reading about a part of the brain called the _hippocampus_ , which Annabeth is almost one hundred percent certain is a horse-mermaid hybrid because she's literally ridden one before, but she keeps that to herself. Annabeth and Percy mostly share the first bowl, passing to Rachel only once, listening to her read terms and definitions that have little to no meaning to either of them. Mostly it's just nice to sit together. 

Eventually Rachel finishes the chapter and the three of them finish a second bowl. They end up on the floor with pillows and blankets and handfuls of snacks. 

Sometimes, in moments like these, they talk about hard stuff. The nightmare inducing realities of the world or just the fear of being alone in a crowded room. Early twenty-somethings stuff, as Rachel calls it. Today, Rachel fills them in on the latest drama with the barista she's been on two dates with.

"I'm obsessed with her," Rachel sighs, looking through said barista's Facebook to find a picture to show them. "She made us a quiche?"

Annabeth nods. She's feeling fuzzy around the edges. "Wait, isn't quiche, like. eggs?" 

Rachel waves away Annabeth's question. "It was a vegan quiche, duh. Tofu." She shoves her phone at Annabeth. The girl in the picture is rocking Carhartt overalls and sporting an undercut. Definitely cute, definitely Rachel's type. 

Annabeth hands the phone to Percy, who studies it for a moment before asking, "She an art major?"

"Liberal arts," Rachel sighs dreamily. "Women's studies."

Percy "ahhh"s and hands the phone back. "So she's ghosting you?"

Rachel is face first on the floor again. They've come full circle. 

They sit in silence for a bit, Annabeth's head in Percy's lap and her socked feet in Rachel's. It's comfortable until it's not. Annabeth knows the question is coming even before the air shifts. Her chest starts to feel a little tighter, her breath catching wrong in her lungs, coming out a little faster than normal. 

"So…," Rachel starts, sounding hesitant to continue, "have you guys decided how long you're gonna be at camp this summer?"

Annabeth exhales a little too harshly. Her eyes fly to Percy, who looks about as uncomfortable and scared as she feels. It's a hard question.

They're both turning 20 this summer, and as welcome as they are and always will be at Camp Half Blood, they're both starting to wonder what this next stage of their life is going to look like. It's not like they have a ton of mentors to look towards for advice in navigating the simple concept of turning into adults while also being demigods. 

Every year, camp feels a little bit different. It's not that it stops feeling like home, but even home can let you down and confuse you sometimes. Annabeth is all too aware of that fact.

They've got lots of options, both at camp and in this world where they get to pretend they're normal sometimes. Rachel is one of the many in-the-middle parts of their lives. Their time together feels like a middle ground. She's always there to complain about school and show them pictures of flakey hot girls.

"Not sure yet," Percy answers for them. He's better at answering questions he doesn't have an answer to. "What about you?"

"I'll be there as long as I'm needed," Rachel says with a shrug. It's such a Rachel response, it makes Annabeth smile despite it all. 

Percy nods, looking like he feels a similar way, and Annabeth's world shifts back into place. She hears the voice of her mentors and her friends in her head, reminding her that not everything can be planned. She watches Percy and Rachel shrug off uncertainty, and reminds herself to give it a try sometimes. 

She takes a deep breath while she can, reaches for the lighter by her feet for something to play with. Percy's hand finds its way to her hair, almost on instinct. Annabeth feels grounded again. 

"I'm sure we'll be around a while," Annabeth says. There's so many open ends in the sentence, she's not even sure what she means by it. She tells herself to be satisfied with that. 

Percy shimmies out from under her and moves to get up off the ground. On his way up he extends his hand to Annabeth, who lets him pull her up with him. "Should we, like? Scream? Or run around?

Rachel laughs out loud at that, and Annabeth feels the fuzziness encompass her again. She let's it feel like a blanket and not a chokehold, settles into it on another deep breath. She reminds herself that she can have this, these little moments. She can ground herself in uncertainty. Percy starts jogging in place, and Annabeth feels a giddiness taking over her. 

She moves to put her shoes back on. "I'll race you guys around the block?"

Percy cheers. Rachel groans, looking like she might just tell them to have fun and come back when they've gotten their energy out, but she ends up pulling herself up to join them.

Annabeth beats them both, but they're all laughing when they crash to the ground at the foot of the stairs. 

Her lungs are stinging and her heart is racing. She basks in the familiar feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i'd love to write more of these two soon. maybe if you feel so inclined, drop a comment or come talk to me over on my [tumblr](https://himbopercy.tumblr.com/)! :)


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